Agging
by Scarlettplay
Summary: AU Leah POV. 100 yrs into the future, things have changed. The wolf pack is in chaos. Leah must take things into her own hands, but she's hounded, chased and taken down. Why won't they let her kill herself? Drabblish, short story & chaps; updates 1x/week.
1. Chapter 1

**CHAPTER 1**

Gagging.

I can barely breathe and I'm choking on my saliva, like a dog running faster than it can possibly go.

"Come on, dammit! Faster!" I bark.

_Rrrrrrrrriiiiiiiiick!_

My car grinds as I shift it hard and try to squeeze every last bit of energy out of this scrap of metal that was once a decent speeder's wet dream.

_Rowa, rowa, rowa, rowa, rowa, rowa, rowa!_

The cop cars surround me on each side.

Hedged.

Floundering.

_Screwed!_

I'll die before I let them take me. I did this for _him._

For my love.

They took him, the vile beings.

He's gone.

It's my job to strike and deliver retribution.

Emily couldn't do it. She was too distraught.

Only I . . .

Only I could deliver the blow of justice.

And I did. As much as time allowed.

"You all need to settle down!" I growl, and laughing sardonically at my predicament.

The best part of living on the rez? The highway stretches on and on and is rarely monitored by cops.

Not today. Not when I'm out, racing to my imminent death.

I knew my mission was a kamikaze one.

I accepted anyway.

"I'll see you soon, Sam," I say and then . . .

Nothing.

I am road-kill, flipping over and flattened after ramming my vehicle into the cop car flanking me on the left.

-O—O—O-

**A/N:**

**So, I was attempting to turn this into a drabble and realized fairly quickly I couldn't adhere to the rules. I'm just too damn wordy, so at the suggestion of Laura JasperCougar Whitlock, a fellow authoress, I am going to dub this a drizzle.**

**The chapters will all be fairly short and concise and the story itself won't be long either.**

**I'm so pleased that I have already received some support on this story. I was worried I'd tick some people off by jumping over to the Jacob side of the line.**

**Anyway, thanks for reading and taking a chance. I really appreciate it. This crazy story hit me out of the blue while I was hiking and wouldn't leave me alone until I wrote it. I love Leah, and I was bummed that she never really got a happy ending in the books. I always felt there was this low level of attraction and UST between Jacob and Leah, and I wanted the two of them to get together. Although I do understand why Stephenie Meyer's paired him with Nessie. It was a necessary evil, along with that atrocious name: Renesmee. Honestly, who would ever condemn their child to a name like that?**

**Alright, shutting up now. You won't hear much from me in future chapters. I want the chapters to just flow from one to the next without me interjecting my stupidity in the middle of it.**

**Should post once a week. It's pretty much all written. I have one or two more chapters left and then it's completed. **

**Let me know what you think . . . If I should stick to vampires, AH or what?**

**Scarlettplay**


	2. Chapter 2

**CHAPTER 2**

_6 months later._

_Week 1 inside . . . _

-O—O—O-

Nagging.

_It's a requirement for your job, apparently._

I roll my eyes.

_CLANG!_

The bars slide shut, and I am back in place. Back in the box.

Verdict.

Guilty.

I don't care. The justice system barely exists anymore.

Story of my life.

Nobody ever believes me. Nobody wants to know the truth.

I'll sit and rot in this dark, dank, stink hole.

"Twenty four hours. And this time, keep it down. I don't want to hear a peep out of you!" the night guard says.

I grunt. 'Cause that's all she deserves.

Twenty four hours of peace.

Not a punishment, a reward.

They don't understand.

I'm not fit to live.

The hospital should have killed me before I came here.

The car crash should've ended me.

But no. Not my luck.

Stupid, rapid healing body.

I turn over my wrist and stare at the scabs already forming where she stabbed me in the wrist. The witch with the fork.

Who gives a psychotic woman like her and myself anything sharp at all?

Stupid Siobhan. I hate her.

I hate everything about her.

Especially the fact she has people who love her.

People visit her.

I lose self control on those days she talks about her boyfriend and son coming to see her. It seems like they come every other flipping day.

So, I talked smack.

Who cares?

She did.

Her fork landed right in my skin, and I jabbed my butter knife into her pretty blue eye.

Let's see how being a one eyed freak affects her conjugal visits. Stupid sow!

I'll never have a visitor.


	3. Chapter 3

**CHAPTER 3**

_Week 2 . . . _

-O—O—O-

Wagging.

I bark.

I don't wag.

I won't wag.

I've decided that each guard can suck it.

They don't know me, and they won't.

So when they come to my cell to get me, I turn into this.

I am reduced to fur, teeth and snapping jaws.

"Yeah, here you go. You're welcome," the nameless morning guard says shoving my food through the bars.

Raw meat.

Wonders never cease. They caught on.

I won't eat gruel when I'm in wolf form.

Finally they used that lump on top of their heads.

"When you're done pissing on the bars, you might want to get dressed today. You have a scheduled visit." She walks away, whistling.

_Visitor?_

_Who?_

My lawyer wants nothing to do with me; my family's all gone and dead. Friends are a thing of the past.

Nobody wants me.

I gnaw at the meat, and tear into it. Bits of red flesh go flying every which way.

It smells juicy and tastes better than anything they fed me last week.

The final remnants of it slide down my throat.

I debate whether or not to change back.

Why should I?

If I stay this way whoever it is that's coming to see me will go away.

But I kind of want to know who it is.

_Screw that, Leah. You know it's nobody that cares about you. Take a nap and they'll go away._

I curl into a furry heap on the floor where I just ate my rare steak moments ago.

In no time at all I'm asleep.

And the world goes on without me.


	4. Chapter 4

**CHAPTER 4**

_Week 3 . . . _

-O—O—O-

Stabbing.

They are prodding me through the bars with long, sharp poles.

"Grrrrrrrrrrr, rowwwwwwwp!" I growl and snap at the guards.

They're coming in to get me.

A taser launches through the bars and zaps me.

I'm sprawled out on the floor, and suddenly my hair and claws are gone.

I'm flesh, cold and shaking and writhing on the ground.

Unplanned tears drift down my cheeks.

"I said you have a visitor, you idiot! I told you last week if you didn't come out to see them this week we wouldn't be so nice," the guard snaps.

They drag a few pieces of clothes onto my scrawny body.

I'm losing weight.

How could I not with this crud they pass off as food?

No more steak for me.

Now I get fish. And sometimes the fish is borderline rancid.

My cell reeks.

It keeps me awake. Can't sleep.

And they wonder why I'm grouchy?

"If you change back I'll taser your skinny ass again. But go ahead, you just try me, sweetheart," Paul says. He's the front guard who keeps things orderly when visitors come in.

Male visitors require a male guard.

This means I have a male visitor.

Now I'm pissed.

"Who is here to see me?" I hiss as they cuff me.

"Oh, you'll see soon enough."

"Tag and bag the hag! Tag and bag the hag!" A steady chorus chants outside. It gets louder as they string me along down the hallway.

I'm shoeless.

Hell, I'm soulless. Does it matter if I skin my toe on something?

Nope. Not really.

I'm shoved down into a crude seat that is barely holding itself together.

The fact that the chair doesn't break is a testament to just how skinny I've gotten.

I wouldn't be surprised if I've lost close to twenty pounds.

_TAP, TAP, TAP_

A pen raps at the glass that separates us.

_Oh yeah. A visitor._

I look up.

What the hell?

I stand up.

_Taser me if you must. I'm not sitting through this._

I run.

And _phiiiiiiiiiisssshhhhh!_

My back stings and my teeth vibrate as the electricity forces me down into a fetal position.

_I hate him!_


	5. Chapter 5

**CHAPTER 5**

_Week 4 . . . _

-O—O—O-

Dragging.

Once again I am dragged to this torture.

Doesn't matter I was in solitary confinement.

He has friends in high places.

Obviously.

He sits across from me like last week.

Only this time he doesn't tap the glass, and I don't look up.

"Next week he's requested to see you without the glass partition," Paul tells me.

_Oh goodie. _

_Can I have your gun first?_

I remain impassive.

Quiet.

Resigned to sit across from my enemy.

He's the reason Sam's dead.

He's the reason I'm here.

Why in the hell he wants to see Leah Clearwater is beyond me.

I am not worth seeing.

I sit and wait.

He doesn't open his mouth.

Neither do I.

I have a juicy steak back in my cell.

My food picked up this last week.

I suspect he has something to do with that. I'm not sure why.

If I wasn't so damn hungry I wouldn't eat it based on principle alone.

When I lose more weight, they'll insist I wear the overalls.

I hate overalls.

I prefer a belt.

Yeah, that ain't happening.

I could hang myself with it.

And we wouldn't want that, would we now?

They already took my bed away when they realized I was trying to bash my skull in with the frame.

Now I have a blanket and a pillow on the floor.

Next they'll take my sink away, since I've tried to drown myself in it.

Twice.

Good luck getting rid of that.

_CLICK, CLICK, CLICK, CLICK._

Paul taps his nightstick on the wall in rhythm to the clock, ticking away the time.

Half hour visits.

What's the point?

What can anybody accomplish or say in a measly half hour.

The time passes ever so slowly, and I am on display.

Why?

Don't know.

Hard to say. But I don't like it.

I won't give him the satisfaction this week of watching them beat me down like a dog.

Not happening.

So my hackles raise, a feral snarl rips out of me.

My legs bounce in anticipation.

Not a chance he'll get to me.

Two more minutes to go . . .

Two more minutes and I'm home free.

Back to my cell for me.

"Bag and tag the hag! Bag and tag the hag!" the echoes rise through the walls.

They're getting louder.

They know he'll be out in a few precious moments, and rejoin their renegade group of heroes.

The community adores them. They can do no wrong.

Never mind they destroy lives right and left.

And forget the fact they are completely insane.

I sit and wait.

And then he presses a palm to the window.

His left hand.

Ringless.

And then he's gone.


	6. Chapter 6

**CHAPTER 6**

_Week 5 . . . _

-O—O—O-

Sagging.

I am defeated.

I tried to escape.

Failure.

One more time I have to face him.

But next week . . . I won't be here.

I'll be dead.

I'll figure out how to end myself.

No more eating.

No more drinking.

I refuse to play this game with him.

He can't work his mind tricks on me.

"Bag and tag the hag," the familiar shrieks accompany his visit.

I settle into my dilapidated chair.

Why does he do this?

Is he getting his jollies off on watching me sit uneasy on the other side?

No matter how hard I try not to care, I do.

I want to hurt him, the way he hurt me.

And today, there's no barrier between us.

Just him and me.

He's within my grasp.

I remain aloof, uncaring.

Paul chains me to the chair before my 'visitor' is let in.

"Don't you try anything, sweetheart, or else," Paul warns me.

I sit in silence.

_Yeah, yeah. What are you going to do?_

_Kill me?_

It would be a blessed relief.

_Criiiiiiick . . ._

The squeaky, rusted hinge on the metal door announces his arrival.

_Oh joy!_

"How is she?" my visitor asks Paul.

"Same ol', same ol'," Paul responds.

I stare at my bare feet.

Do I even own a pair of shoes?

The last time I wore a pair was when I took Siobhan's eye out.

_Ahhhh, yes. Good times._

She never looked better.

A gust of air hits me as he heaves himself down into the chair across from me.

Tables are fleeting.

They don't need to stay bolted down when he's in my presence.

The same goes for my shackles.

Before he's registered anything, I use my superhuman strength, rip my chains off, tear the table out of the floor, and launch it at him.

Bolts got nothing on me, not when I need his blood on my hands.

"Watch out, Paul," he yells.

In a flash, he's pushed Paul away, the table smashes up against the wall and I'm flying across the air at him.

_Vzzzzzzzzzziiiiip!_

A fire rips up my shoulder as a taser hits me.

I flop on the floor like a fish.

"I told you to stop doing this. She doesn't want to see you, Jacob." Paul gets to his feet, walks over and nudges me with his boot right after the electric current stops jolting through me.

"She will. She'll want to see me soon enough, when she hears what I have to say." Jacob paces next to me.

If I could stop shaking and crying, I could reach out and topple him to the floor.

Get us on equal playing fields.

"She won't. She doesn't say a word to anybody, or listen to a word we say. I've heard her say one sentence. One. That's it. She spends bare minimum one day a week in solitary confinement. The other inmates are frightened of her. Nobody breaths in her direction," Paul informs him.

"Well, they're not like me, are they? They're not in charge; they can't shape shift. I'd be scared of her too if I didn't have those advantages," Jacob says.

"Tell her next week whatever you have to say. It can wait. She's not up for it today. Next week I'll make sure you two have a padded cell with no furniture. Sit old school on the floor like a proper Native American," Paul teases.

He's one of us, so he can get away with offhanded remarks like that.

"Fine. One more week. But next visit I want her out of the cuffs when I come to see her, understood?" Jacob demands.

"Your funeral, man." Paul shrugs.

I am hefted up off the floor by both of them, and I whimper at Jacob's grubby, soiled hand on me.

_You killed him, you monster!_

The bars slide open a few moments later to my cell, I'm eased down onto my blanket and then the bars click closed.

I've never felt better than I do now, not since the day Sam died. Jacob's hands are off me and he's leaving.

"This is her cell?" Jacob rasps. Emotion breaks through his words.

"Yep. We've had to scale everything back. She keeps trying to take herself out. They had to remove the plug for the sink so she'd quit trying to drown herself. Her toilet has the bare minimum water too," he explains.

Jacob grips the bars, and the tips of his shoes poke through the slats.

"This isn't right. I don't like it," Jacob says, sounding miserable.

I can't look at him anymore. I manage to turn over and face the back wall.

"Can't be helped. This is what we have available. It's not like we have an abundance of prison cells here on the res," Paul says.

"I don't care. This is not okay. I'll pay to have her moved somewhere more humane," Jacob says. "And see to it they double her food. She's lost an enormous amount of weight."

I hear his fingers drumming on the bars.

"You mean someplace she can escape easily, attack and kill you and then commit suicide? Good plan, chief," Paul back talks.

"She won't. I'm going to explain to her, and you'll see . . ."

_Clap, clap, clap, clap . . . _

Retreating footsteps, and then I'm numb.

Nothing he says makes sense, and I can't even fathom why he comes here.

_I am. Nothing._

_Can't even kill him. I am worthless._


	7. Chapter 7

**CHAPTER 7**

_Week 6 . . . _

-O—O—O-

Lagging.

I move sluggishly.

I haven't eaten or swallowed a thing. At least not by choice.

But they won't allow that.

Over the last week, I was forced to drink. At first, they held me down and poured it down my throat. I spit it back up and gave them hell.

Since that didn't work, they took it to the next level and hooked up an IV.

I screamed until they couldn't take it any longer. They couldn't get close enough to my mouth to tape it shut because I bit several of them. I was sedated for a time after that. Not sure how long.

After I was thoroughly rehydrated, they shoved me back in my cell where I rotted, until they did it again.

It's an endless torment.

"Time for your visit," Paul says, a gleam in his eye.

I stand up, dressed and ready to go.

This wasn't supposed to happen.

I was supposed to be dead.

Yet, here I am. Forced to listen to a man I despise more than anything.

If I live to be a two hundred years I'll never trust him or believe him; doesn't matter what Black says. There's no changing my mind.

Jacob is the reason all of this garbage happened.

He's the reason I am one hundred years old, and why I lived fifty solid years as a wolf.

My family all died, except Seth, because he was right there next to me.

But Jacob was the reason we had to go into hiding.

We were fugitives, what was left of our pack.

He picked the rest of them off.

Deserters he called us.

I barely knew him. How was I supposed to desert somebody I didn't know?

Sam was all I heard.

His voice in my head, giving me orders.

He didn't have to command me. I loved him. I love him still.

I would follow him to the ends of the earth.

It didn't matter that he married Emily.

She wasn't one of us. She wasn't in our pack. Half breeds like her can live a long freaking time, but she can't phase or hear the thoughts of the pack.

I understood him.

I loved him.

And he loved me.

I had his baby in my belly that day I rammed my car into a spinning torrent of screeching metal.

The baby didn't survive, but I sure as hell did. Sam's evidence of love inside me is gone. I have no lasting proof he was mine.

My eyes narrow as I stand in front of the sliding bars.

Yeah, I'm stuck in here.

Jacob killed twice as many people as I'm accused of taking out, yet he walks the earth free.

Like I care?

There's nothing for me in this world.

Nothing except ending Jacob Black.

"If you're good and you listen to him, I have a treat for you," Paul whispers, leaning in closely.

_Like what? Beggin' Strips?_

Do they even make those anymore?

I don't know.

Don't really care.

This time I'm lead to a room where they cross examine people. The windows cannot be broken, the walls reinforced with concrete and steel.

I'm not getting out of here anytime soon.

It's blank inside. Not anything at all.

Just a cube of nothing.

How apropos . . .

I opt to slump down into the corner and sag like it's a dying art that I want to resurrect.

Who knows how long later, Jacob enters and his boots click on the barren floor and the echo ricochets around the room.

"Leah," he breathes like I'm a sight for sore eyes.

I keep my head down, eyes on my feet.

"I know you don't like this, but it's important." He turns to Paul. "Make sure that everything's arranged just as I requested. If anything goes wrong it's on you," Jacob hisses quietly.

Paul shuffles out the door and it clicks closed.

We are locked into a room together.

I could phase right now. I could rip his throat out and he'd barely have time to react.

"You're not going to hurt me," he says, like he's reading my mind.

I snort and my head bobs a little. _So __you __say, __you __lousy __flea __infested __dog!_

"Leah, you're not going to hurt me, because I owe you," he says.

This doesn't make a lick of sense at all.

What is he talking about?

He huffs obscenely loud.

What is his problem?

"You're not going to believe this, but I'm telling you the truth. Sam was going to kill you. You're the only reason he lived as long as he did. I knew you loved him, and I wanted you to be happy. He planned to take both you and Seth out. Since the rest of his pack was gone, Emily wanted him to come home. She knew you were having an affair with her husband. And she couldn't wait any longer. He used you, Leah. He used you to get to me," he says softly.

My head tilts up enough so I can look into his eyes. To get to him? What is this nonsense?

Is he high?

He barely knows me.

"I . . . I love you," he says, and then suddenly the door flies open.

Jacob phases on the fly, quicker than I've ever seen before, and Paul grabs me and yanks me onto Jake's back.

Shots ring out, and before I know it, he's gotten through the whole prison, and we're outside, flying at lightning speed.

Shouts and jeers rise behind us. We are being pursued.

I roll off Jacob's back, refusing to go with him.

And before he can get back to me, I am knocked face first to the ground.

I'm being hit, spit on, kicked and jabbed relentlessly by unseen perpetrators.

I welcome the pain, the filth, the grit.

I want it.

I want it all.


	8. Chapter 8

**CHAPTER 8**

Zagging.

Jacob's russet fur weaves in and out of the people, tossing them aside as he comes after me.

I hope they kill me before he does.

He lied. Like he always does.

He doesn't love me.

He doesn't even like me.

I want to die.

If I can't kill him, then I want to be dead like Sam.

As an excruciating blow lands on my brow, I hear a tortuous scream above me, and somebody goes flying.

Jacob is above me, nudging me to move.

I ignore him.

His people, his followers, are attacking him because of me.

And yet he is protecting me from them.

Why is he doing this?

Does he really love me?

How can this be possible?

"Mrrrrrrrnnnnnnn," Jacob yelps as they pummel him to get to me.

But he's all around me, surrounding me and keeping me safe from harm.

This is ridiculous. I want him dead, yet I feel twisted up in knots inside watching them attack him.

So, I do the only thing I know.

I phase.

I run.

I leave him behind me.

Let them kill him.

I'll watch from a distance, where it's not because of me.

Wait . . . this is messed up.

I don't know what I'm doing.

And a part of me feels guilty, so I don't look back to see if they have him, or to watch them rip him to shreds.

I used to dream about the day he'd be shredded into scraps of fur, but this feels wrong.

Although, when he wasn't guarding me, not one of them seemed to get a hold on him.

My word, but he's fast.

Faster than me, and I used to lead the pack in speed and agility.

It's very impressive to see him in action.

Impressive, if I didn't have to hate him so.

The tree line swallows me whole, and I'm flying through, a blur of brown and greens whizzes past me.

There's no destination for me. No reason to exist at all anymore.

When I run out of stamina, I'll find a cliff to throw myself off. Jagged rocks should be able to do the trick so I can't regenerate.

That's the sole reason I used to cliff dive with Sam and the guys. I liked the rush from barely escaping death a few yards away. I wanted to see how far I could push myself.

All I have to do is adjust my trajectory and I'll get the intended result.

With all of my power, I thrust forward, digging deep in the earth with my claws and throwing up divots behind me of rich, dark forest soil.

Never have I felt more alive than now when I'm racing towards my death.

It feels right.

The breeze is wonderful, and I savor it filtering its way through each strand of my hair.

It's the small things like this that make me happy. Really, it never used to take much to make me satisfied. A kind word from Sam. A good kill for dinner. Some soft spot to lay my head at night; usually Sam's stomach or neck.

That was until a little over seven months ago when it all changed.

The cliff can't be far, and I won't hesitate to do it.

It's my destiny to end it all today. I can feel it.

I hear deep, pounding breaths behind me. I'm being pursued, something's gaining on me.

I have no doubt it's him.

Why can't he go away?

Oh yes, he wants to watch me suffer, and witness my demise.

And really, do I care anymore what he thinks?

No.

I don't like he's gotten under my skin a little.

It hurts more than a razor blade under my fingernails.

I hope he likes a dramatic exit since that's what I intend to do.

The black crags of the cliffs look ominous, albeit strangely inviting up ahead.

With renewed vigor, I pick up the pace.

It helps I'm being followed to give me that added adrenaline rush I need to do this deed.

_Harder, push harder, girl. You're almost there._

_End it! Do it!_

_Sam, I'm coming . . . _


	9. Chapter 9

**CHAPTER 9**

Tagging.

My heel is nipped like Jacob's playing with me; it doesn't hurt. It's only enough of a swipe I roll and fall out of my run.

It doesn't stop me. I'm determined.

I will make it off the edge of the sea cliffs if it kills me.

Hopefully it does. Saves me the sheer terror of dropping.

It's one thing to do it for fun, based off dares and after seeing several other people fly off the edge without a hitch, but it's entirely another thing to knowingly do it so I'll die.

I yelp, and scramble back to racing to the edge.

Another nip, but this one is at my flanks, making me fall harder this time.

Now I'm mad.

_Stop it!_

I ram my head into his ribs, pushing him back a few feet, before going back to my goal.

As I'm leaving him behind, I hear it distinctly.

Several more paws racing this way.

He's not alone.

What is he doing then?

Trying to make me wait so they can witness it too?

He's sicker than I thought!

_Screw you, Jacob Black. You have the most awful, twisted black soul imaginable._

With a leap, I dodge his next move.

I'm on to him now.

He lunges at my neck, barely missing.

My smaller size makes me spry. I can avoid him if I concentrate.

And focus I do. After a few more attempts to get at me, and my artful dodging, he suddenly phases.

"Will you come with me before they kill us both?" he hollers. He's stark naked, and I want to look away, only I don't.

He's magnificent in all of his glory.

But I hate him.

I think . . .

"Just follow me, give me a few minutes. I have so much more to tell you," he pleads, his eyes dark, urgent, and daring me to believe.

I nod like an idiot.

He transforms back into the surly, reddish wolf who was taking people out right and left for my benefit.

Right . . . _my _benefit.

_See, this is why he's so good at what he does. He sounds so earnest and forthright. People believe him and where does it get them? Six feet under, with crying friends and relatives surrounding their tombstone._

Fine. I'll follow. What can it hurt?

I'm already a certifiable nutcase and ready to die. What difference does it make at this point if I die at his hands?

It's not like Sam won't forgive me in the next life and pick me over Emily.

Sam's seen all of my deeds I performed while I was living to avenge him.

If that doesn't make me his choice over Emily then I don't know what will.

I try not to think about how our unborn baby might be with him in heaven. How they might both be waiting for me to join them.

Jacob's pace is grueling, and I'm barely able to keep up.

Jacob pushes harder and harder, amping up the raw muscle power required to keep the speed going.

I barely register anybody following us anymore. Maybe that's his point. Nobody can keep up this manic pace.

He finds a cave that I didn't even notice and ducks inside.

I follow behind, like an imbecile, because I can't seem to help myself.

_Here goes nothing . . . _


	10. Chapter 10

**CHAPTER 10**

Flagging.

Red flags are popping up all over the place as I follow behind him.

This is completely secluded.

He could kill me no problem and leave me here to rot forever.

Why are my survival instincts so strong when I simply want to die?

It makes no sense.

Jacob's pace slows considerably inside the cave that seems to go on and on.

How did he even know this was here?

He sniffs and snorts as he motions over to a corner of the cave.

I can barely see at all.

Jacob lies down, and I assume he's telling me to do the same.

If he thinks I'm going to phase right here and hang out in the nude while he 'explains' how things are, he's got another thing coming.

If he wants to talk to me then he'll talk to my furry face, not my—_OW!_

He nips at me, and then gently tugs at my leg, pulling me closer to him.

I intend to keep my distance, thank you very much!

In an instant, Jacob phases and then pulls me into his lap.

I'm not sure if it's so he can try to kill me at will, or if it's because he's hiding his man bits.

Maybe a little of both?

He strokes my back, and it feels really nice.

A part of me wishes this wasn't weird. It feels natural, almost too natural to have him touch me this way.

It's not a condescending, 'you're my lapdog' kind of thing. It's an 'I understand you like you understand me' kind of thing. It feels affectionate and friendly.

I'd be remiss if I fought it after the way he saved me twice today.

He sprung me out of prison, took on his own people to keep me safe.

Even though he knew damn well it didn't matter how much they roughed me up. I would heal quickly no problem.

But something wouldn't let him stand by, just like I couldn't sit there and watch them beat him. I had the same knowledge as he did. I knew he'd heal quickly.

It was wrong somehow, and right now being so close to him feels right.

My whole world is upside down and red flags are all over the place in my head.

"This is insane," he echoes my sentiment.

I give a hint of a nod, and then relax onto my front paws as his big hands continue to comb through every bit of my fur.

"I know you don't trust me, and I don't expect you too. But I have a lot to tell you, so I'm hoping you'll sit and listen to me for a bit," he says. His voice is soothing even though it's ragged and rough after all of the running we did.

I'm extremely thirsty, and I'm sure he is too.

Water is a commodity we are short on, so I push that craving for fluids aside.

Later.

He'll say his peace, the mob outside will have disappeared and then we can go our separate ways and find the necessities of life: food, water, shelter.

Or I may run back to that cliff.

Decisions, decisions.

What ever shall I do?

I don't know yet.

I suppose it depends on what he shares with me today.

The outcome will probably be messy either way. One of us will lie in tatters with our blood spilling about, abandoning our bodies.

"If only you could read my thoughts like I can yours," he says wistfully.

My head pops up.

He can . . . _what? _I snort angrily, dismayed by this revelation.

My mind races as I think back to his visits and the things going on in my violent, angry mind while he was in the room with me.

He looks me in the eye and chuckles.

"I'm sorry. I thought you knew. I figured Sam told you," he says, still caressing my back in long, drawn out passes.

I shake my head no.

"Well, that's . . . that sucks!" he says, sympathizing.

_Yeah, it does . . ._

I suppose staying in my wolf form kind of defeats the purpose. I wanted to keep from talking to him, and now I know he's in my head it's useless. Worse, really.

Although I still don't relish the idea of acting the part of being Eve in his little man-cave, I'm reconsidering being nude over him being able to read my thoughts.

I'm not a total prude, but I don't enjoy prancing around stark naked for others to see.

Sam and the other guys never cared if I was naked around them, and they never leered at me, but it was always a little uncomfortable for me. I always knew I wasn't really one of them no matter how hard I tried to be. My darling Sam was the reason it all worked. He'd kick their behinds if they so much as cat called at me. I felt safe all of the time, but still . . . I didn't like being indecent.

Sure, I was cheating with a married man. That was done in private. The pack knew what was going on too, but they never pried or said a word about it.

"Sounds like I need to go back to the very beginning then so you'll know what the hell happened," he begins.

_The beginning of what?_

"The beginning of us . . ."

-O—O—O-

**A/N:**

**Okay, so here's one of my major deviations from canon. Yes, in this story, Jacob can read her mind regardless of if he's in human form or wolf form. Sorry if this bothers you, but it's kind of necessary for this plot line . . .**

**Next update: hopefully Wednesday. Sorry I was late this week. Busy, busy, busy. Holidays, real life, blah, blah, blah, boring stuff.**

**Let's continue on Wednesday, shall we?**

**Scarlett**


	11. Chapter 11

**CHAPTER 11**

Bragging.

Jacob bragged a little bit about how he and I played together as kids all of the time.

For some odd reason I can barely recall it.

He insists that our parents were good friends, and even though he was older than I was by about four years, he always liked it when we got together.

The age gap is probably why I don't recall it as well as he does.

Hearing his memories he's so fond of does funny things to me. It warms me to him, and I'm disconcerted by it.

Still, I wait it out; remain still and listen.

"We stopped seeing each other so much when I went into high school. You were ten and I was fourteen. I met Bella Swan a year after that. And even though I still thought about you all of the time, you still had some growing up to do. I fell in love with her too. Or at least I thought I was in love with her."

_Yes, I remember her. She caused nothing but trouble_, I mused inwardly.

"Yeah, I heard you didn't like her much. I don't know what it was about her that I felt I couldn't let go. Until she married that freak Cullen. Then they had a baby girl, and he changed Bella. I was angry. I went to hunt him down, and that's when I met Nessie, my late wife," he said.

Late? When did this happen?

He sounds absolutely devastated. "Somebody murdered her two months ago. When that happened it was weird, it was like this strange cloud lifted off my mind. I wasn't bound by my imprint anymore. And right away I wanted to find you, to see if you were okay. I found out Sam was plotting to kill you, and he was behind Nessie's death. He never liked the fact I wouldn't kill Bella or my wife. He called them an aberration, deformities on mankind. I disagreed. Emily was a half-breed, but that didn't stop him from marrying her, did it? He imprinted on her, just as I did Nessie. It seems that leaders in our tribe are drawn to half-breeds. It's in our blood somehow. Anyway, you know the rest, how he refused to let me be chief again, citing that I already bowed out. After I married Nessie he caused my pack nothing but trouble. I'm sure he kept you out of the loop, but he was always thwarting us when we tried to protect the tribe, making us look incompetent while he saved the day. I didn't care, as long as he left my wife and me alone."

I shivered a little; hearing all of this was unnerving. Sam was always a little guarded with his thoughts, but I never for a second guessed he was doing things behind my back. I always assumed he was keeping me out of his thoughts about Emily.

This was more than a little shocking.

It was hard to reconcile what he was telling me with what I experienced and thought I knew.

"It's hard to believe, I know. But I want you to think about this, the day he died, he was missing for several hours, wasn't he?"

I nodded and shifted in his lap a little bit. Guessing he knew where Sam was. I felt nauseous inside.

This was surreal.

"Do you want to know where he was and what he was doing?" he asked.

I froze. I could barely breathe, let alone answer his question.

Did I want to know?

Million dollar question.

I was starting to think maybe I didn't.

"Well, screw it, you need to know. He was scouting my pack out. He was hiring Paul to kill Seth and you. Paul told me right away, and I told him not to do it. Sam was furious. He was blocking me from his mind all day, and I figured he was up to something no good. I told Paul to keep an eye on Sam. Sam and I are linked; I can read the thoughts of his entire pack, because they really are under my authority, which I choose not to exert. But Sam can't read the thoughts of my pack. He only hears me, if I allow it. I let him because if I shut him out, then I didn't have a direct line to his head and his pack anymore." He sighs, and his hands are a little firmer now.

I don't mind. He's talking about a lot of painful stuff. I get it.

"I know it's hard to believe, but I was crushed when you left my pack for Sam's. I knew how you felt about him though, and it was incredibly hard to keep my thoughts to myself and not reveal how I really felt about you," he says, his tone dark, deep and rough.

_Why didn't you ever say something to me about how you felt?_

"You loved Sam. I knew how broken you were when he left you for Emily. I understood better than anybody how that felt, because I watched Bella do the same thing. It wasn't my place to try to win you over when you weren't over him yet. I waited, and hoped. But then before that day could happen, Nessie came along. I couldn't do the same thing to you Sam did, so I kept it to myself," he says.

_So that brings us to the present. What now? Sam said you were crazy. He told me you were trying to gather all of the tribes in the area together and slowly gather forces from other Native American's in the US and form an army to take back the land of our people. Is that true?_

It sounded pretty farfetched. I remember when Sam told me I had a hard time swallowing it, but at the time I believed he was always nothing but honest, so I took him at his word.

I sit and let him touch me.

Not sure what else to do.

My head is truly spinning.

He smiles, but doesn't answer.

_So? What's the plan? Is that what you're doing?_

Still no answer. Is he trying to get me to phase back?

I get up, stretch my legs and give him some space. He sits in such a way I can't see anything I shouldn't.

"If you want to go, you can. But if you stay with me and join my pack, you'll see and do marvelous things you never dreamed of," he says.

Now I'm scared.

_It is true then. You think you can take over this land?_

_Are you nuts?_

-O—O—O-

**A/N:**

**I apologize for the long wait. I had a lot going on writing wise so this story took a back burner. I hope to finish it up very soon and have it completed within the next two weeks or so.**

**Cheers,**

**Scarlett**


	12. Chapter 12

**CHAPTER 12**

-O—O—O-

**A/N:**

**WARNING: There is some mention of rape and sexual abuse in this chapter. Proceed at your own risk (however, I tried hard to make sure it's not anymore graphic than anything in the actual Twilight series with Rose and Royce).**

-O—O—O-

Bagging.

I need to pack my bags and go. He's off his rocker.

"No. And I'm not crazy either. This war-torn land is ripe for the picking, and I'm not going to let some tyrant from some other country swoop down on what's left of our land and take it. It should belong to us, to Americans," he says emphatically, then stands up and phases back.

Okay, I'm bonkers too, because what he's saying makes sense.

Every major city is in ruins. It's a travesty but it was inevitable.

Our arrogant country was brought to its knees, and society is barely functioning. It was a wonder they took the time to come after me and put me in jail. What was the point? Murder is a way of life anymore to get ahead and survive.

_Just one thing . . . You haven't told me yet, and I want to hear it from you. You never thought about it each time you phased in jail . . . Did you do it?_ he asks with his mind.

_Do what?_

_Kill them . . . Kill all of those people they said you did?_ he asks.

I phase back to human. "What do you think?" I ask, trying to cover myself as best I can with my hands. My turn to talk. I don't need him picking through my scalp like tiny bits of grotesqueness for him to flaunt and parade around.

I hunch down, and then sit with my arms wrapped around my shins so I'm not so vulnerable.

"I can't read your mind, but I can tell what you're thinking," I say, digging my heel into the dirt a little for a bit of distraction.

He sits down with a little thud. I wonder how much he weighs. He seems larger than Sam. I never noticed it before, but then I wasn't paying much attention to him. My world revolved around my Sam.

My tall, dark, slightly bad-boy Sam.

Even now, hearing all of this, I still miss him. Yes, there were times he did me wrong, but when he loved me, my word, he loved all of me. Each and every part. I ceased to be the angry, hostile woman nobody wanted to be around. I turned into a simpering, very docile, soft, doting woman.

Sam made me feel worthwhile when he paid attention to me. Fifty years seems like a flash in the pan now that I reflect on it.

Probably because it was in dog years, I mused.

Not funny enough to share, so I move on.

"They raped me. All of them. Did you know that part?" I ask.

He nods his head yes and then lies down. He's going to be here for awhile if he wants to hear my story from the beginning.

"Sam told me about what they did to his little sister. How they tortured and molested her. Marley was a sweet girl, but they messed her up good. Sam didn't like that they got away with it." My voice echoes in the cave.

I hated that too. It was never okay with me they got away with hurting her.

Jacob's big eyes shine a little in the low level of light, comforting me.

I drop my arms and loop them casually around my ankles and rest my chin on my knees.

"As part of my keep, I had to retaliate. We took turns doing it. They'd hit us and do something annoying, and then we'd give it right back to them, always trying to one-up them. Them hurting Marley was the last straw. Sam thought it only right they be demoralized and emasculated by a woman. I planned to make them all pay in the worst way imaginable. I was going to . . ." _cut off their testicles . . . _

I sit in silence for a minute, reminiscing about all of the ways I wanted to hurt them.

I never got to.

"They got to me before I could do anything. I know you're wondering why I didn't phase, right? They had a tranquilizer gun. They knocked me out. I woke up with one of them on top of me, and the other three were putting their clothes back on. They bragged about how they did anything they wanted to me as rough as they could. I screamed when I realized what happened. Then when I phased they ran for it. I was so freaked out I couldn't think straight. I crashed through a wall to get out of there. It hurt so bad it made me phase right back.

"Some witnesses saw me running away naked. I was out of it. I barely remember how I got home. Sam was missing for the next few days. But he didn't kill them," I say, sniffing back the tears threatening to fall.

Jake sits and doesn't make a sound, but I can see his pelt tremoring. Is he crying for me?

I can't tell. He's shrowded in darkness.

"They hurt me pretty bad, and even though I healed much quicker than Sam's sister because she's a half breed too, I never really felt better, you know?" I ask rhetorically.

"Yewwwwwwww!" he howls suddenly so loud the walls almost feel like they'll collapse on us.

What's he doing? Why's he alerting people to our whereabouts?

Should I shape shift back?

Before I can decide, he's flesh and bone, crying and baying for blood on the earth in front of me.

"I'll kill them," he sneers.

"They're already dead," I intone.

And he grips my ankles, kisses my feet and bathes them in tears.

"They're not all dead. They still have families," he sniffs.

_Holy crap!_


	13. Chapter 13

**CHAPTER 13**

Ragging.

I can't stop. He has to hear this.

"Jacob, if you think this is going to take away our pain, it won't. Hurting other people doesn't help. I know. I've suffered for it over and over again. And I'm sick of it. I won't do it anymore. So if this is how you want to live, then you can live without me. I'd much rather leave this cave and throw myself off that cliff."

He stares at me shocked. That's all he's done for the last ten minutes that I've been going off on him.

His tired eyes say it all. He's weighed down by my words.

"I told you I didn't kill them, but that's not entirely true. I had every intention of doing it, but when it came down to it, I hesitated. Emily did it. When I went back to do it, I froze. She was with me and tore them all apart in cold blood. But she . . ."

He knows. I don't have to say it. Being a half breed Emily has some of the same advantages we have: superhuman strength, quick healing process, and speed.

Yes, the vampires were fast, but they didn't see her. They were too focused on me. They couldn't believe I returned after the horrible things they did to me. For all they knew, I was dead. I should have died.

Their repeated bites that would have killed a human didn't work on me. My body rejected their venom and the wounds they inflicted healed immediately after my body shoved their poison back up to the surface.

"Sam and Emily's children would suffer if she went to jail. You served time for her," he says coolly.

I nod. "I had to. I messed up her life. It was my penance for . . . cheating with her husband. I figured she'd kill me when she was done burning them up, but she didn't. She shot me a dirty look, and then told me never to come near her or her children again. I haven't seen her since. I figured she went back to the tribe and told them all I did it. That's what I would have done if I was her." I stare at my fingers. The dirt embedded under the nails is so dark it's almost black, and my skin is so dry it's cracking at the knuckles. It's exactly how I feel inside. Dirt ground into every corner, and dry, lifeless in so many ways.

"How on earth she managed to kill Aro is beyond me," Jacob muses. He suddenly moves next to me and we're side by side, our legs touching a little, but he keeps enough distance that I don't feel too uncomfortable by it.

"She ripped his arms off first so he couldn't touch her with his hands. When the others realized what was happening, she ripped their heads off. Aro had to watch her, helpless, as she dismembered his two right hand men," I recount the story.

"Where were his guards?" Jacob asks. He takes my hand in his. It's supposed to be a comforting gesture, but it does something funny to me. Out of nowhere I feel incredibly raw; even more exposed than being naked next to him.

I haven't touched anybody in what seems like forever that didn't involve physical violence and pain.

My eyes scrunch tight together.

_Don't cry, don't cry, don't cry!_

The way my breathing shallows and the way I tense up makes him tense up momentarily too.

"Hey . . . we don't have to talk about this if you don't to," he says kindly.

"No, that's not it," I say, motioning my chin towards our hooked hands. "You're . . . touching me."

Several tears flit down my cheeks. They're small, but he doesn't miss it.

"Leah . . . what can I do? Should I let go?" He pauses and takes a deep breath. "I really don't want to. I know how you feel. I really do, and I want to help."

"What do you mean you know how I feel?" I bristle, and take my hand back, pushing away from him.

_How can you possibly know how I feel?_

His big hand rubs back and forth massaging his jaw; he's deep in thought. He groans. "I'll explain later. It's . . . complicated. Just know I'm here for you, and I believe you that Emily did it."

I rest my back up against the furthest wall from him. "What now?"

"I want you to come back with me," he snaps his jaw shut, then it pops open, making an odd grinding noise, "and we're going to plan our takeover."

"Jacob, I . . . I don't want to be a part of that. Look, I won't stop you, but I'm not interested. I'm not cut out to rule or be in any kind of leadership position. People hate me. I mean, you heard your people each time you visited me at the prison. Tag and bag the hag? Ring any bells?" They wanted my toe tag secured tightly, me in a vinyl zippered bag and in the morgue for good measure.

"They were upset because they didn't know any better. It's my fault. I didn't explain to them, but if you give me a chance I can fix that. You belong with me, at my side, ruling with fairness." He scoots across the floor to me, careful not to startle me.

"Please? Give me twenty four hours. If they don't accept you after that then I'll let you go. I won't ever pursue you, and I won't get in your way if you go after the rest of the Volturi guard." He reaches out and rests his hands on my knees.

This time his touch does something else entirely to me. It's intimate even though it's a small gesture. An overwhelming desire to touch him back, and caress any portion of skin I can come in contact with blindsides me.

I shut down. No more breathing.

If I can stop my senses, then I won't feel this.

My ears stop listening, my eyes close, and I block all sensations of heart, warmth, and tenderness.

I don't need those things.

They're destructive, and I am . . .

Tired.

So tired of it all.

If I live one more day, I don't know how I'll get through it if I start craving his touch and seeking out kindness and love.

I can't do this.

Solo.

It's how it has to be for me.

My fingers nudge his hands off me and those damn traitorous tears are back.

"I can't. I'm sorry . . ." I whisper into the dark cave.


	14. Chapter 14

**CHAPTER 14**

Snagging.

He's not getting it.

What a persistent ass he is.

Jacob moves around me, and settles himself back down at my side.

"You know, when you refuse to let yourself live it's kind of funny," he says with a dark chuckle.

And there he is.

This is the Jacob Black I always heard about. Ruthless. Cold, calculating and deep down a psychopath. Charming, disarming, and alarming, that's what Sam used to say to describe him.

The slick car salesman who can sell anybody a lemon and tell them it's lemon meringue pie, a dream come true.

I frown as his hand is back in mine again.

"Well, I'm known in the tribe as the comic relief," I say sarcastically, and nudge his leg with mine, knocking his over.

"You always entertain me," he says. He repositions himself so he's straddling my legs, hovering above me. No flesh contacts, yet the heat coming off him is ridiculous. I'm sweating already. "You entertain me because you never know when to put the weapons down." His hand extends in slow motion, and slowly strokes down my right cheek. I watch in horror as a tender, very loving emotion sweeps over him. He's crying right in front of my face. He went from almost teasing me and making fun of me to deeply saddened. "You've been a warrior so long you don't know how to stop. That's why I'm here. This is it. It's just you and me, and you don't have to fight me. I want nothing but your happiness, nothing but your safety and security. If that makes me an enemy then maybe you do need to throw yourself off that cliff because there's a never excuse for hurting a friend who's trying to help you."

He gasps and then a shudder hits him. The quiet keening slows, but his hand is still drifting slowly up and down my cheek.

"I don't have friends," I whimper. "I never have. I can't change that, and I don't expect you to work miracles."

Jacob's hand stills on my cheek, and then shifts to cupping my jaw. "You've only known Sam and his world. I'm not like him. I'm not like that. I won't use you, because I honestly love you."

He leans forward so close his breath makes me lips part.

His nose brushes lightly against my cheek. "Can I show you that I don't want to hurt you?" he asks, his smooth baritone making my insides knot up so I can barely think.

"I . . . d-don't know. It depends on what you plan to do," I stammer, one hand rigidly in my lap, covering my privates, and the other arm draped over my chest.

I'm helpless with him this close and no way to be modest.

Is this his tactic? Get me cornered, flustered and then brainwash me into being one of his lackeys?

"Close your eyes." His dark eyes glint in the low light, and the glimmering glow is mesmerizing.

My staccato, wispy breath is much louder than I want it to be. I wish my damn shoulders would stop shaking, and my legs would still.

What's worse is my lips. They twitch and I bite at them to get them to stop. He's seeing how unnerved I am; I don't like it.

"No."

"If you close your eyes I'll move out of your way so you can leave after I'm done showing you something," he says smoothly.

A low rumble builds in my chest. Every instinct inside of me says, 'PHASE NOW AND KILL HIM!' I feel threatened emotionally, but not physically.

His touch is feather light, and his expression is soft, genuine.

Sam never made me shake like this, and I loved him for as long as I can remember.

Did I simply not know any better? Did I choose him because it was expected of me? My parents pushed me in his direction and they were even more upset than I was when Sam imprinted on Emily.

Have I been playing into other peoples hands all of this time?

But nobody else wanted me.

"How are you going to show me something if my eyes are closed," I challenge. "That doesn't even make sense."

"I can show you things that don't involve your eyesight at all," he growls in powerful, lusty grunt.

With that, my eyes quickly slam shut.

I want whatever he wants to show me. Yes, I'm afraid.

If he's toying with me, it will be the last of me.

I don't have much left, and I'm going out on a limb here for him.

All for my enemy.

_You are so freaking stupid, Leah. He's got you right where he wants you. This is where he phases, makes a fool of you by torturing you and then leaving your carcass to ferment and rot._

My whole body is jittery, and I'm bouncing off the dusty ground, ready to explode, even though absolutely nothing at all is happening.

He's not moving, not speaking.

What is he showing me?

I grind my teeth in anticipation of . . . _what_?

Did he leave and I didn't notice because I am too wrapped up in my own thoughts.

I open my eyes, and Jacob's kneeling in front of me. His chest right in front of my line of sight.

What is he doing?

My eyes flash up to his for answers.

"I could have hurt you just now. I could have forced myself on you. I also could have kissed you and shown how much you mean to me, but I didn't. Why is that?" he asks, the hum in his chest from his words makes my skin buzz.

I could reach out and touch him. It would shock him, being that it would be completely unprovoked.

"Trust me, Leah. I didn't touch you because you didn't say I could. I'll only touch you in a ways that are more than friendship if you want me to. And if that doesn't earn your trust then I don't know what will." He stands up and extends his hand to me.

I hesitantly grip his hand and he brings me to standing.

"Let's go," he says.

And I have no idea if I'm going to go with him or not. Our time in the cave is past.


	15. Chapter 15

**CHAPTER 15**

Swagging.

He's got a big of an arrogant look on his face and a pep in his step.

"Are you okay?" he asks. We crawl out of the cave and he's . . . and I'm . . . I really want my clothes.

But he breaks into a swift run, and I can't think about it anymore.

This is good. This is what I know.

"You don't have to go with me into the res, but can you at least say bye to me at the edge of town?" he requests.

"Okay," I huff. I'm not annoyed, only winded.

There's no reason not to. He has helped me.

In no time we're at the line.

Before I can say goodbye, he's phased and he's howling like he's been stabbed.

I turn to go and then I hear it—several hard footfalls running towards us.

What's he doing?

I phase too in case I need to defend myself, or run, or even to not be exposed like that. And maybe a little so I can protect Jake if he needs it.

The first wolf running towards him scares me. I jump in front of Jacob and my jaws are snapping as I howl as loud as I can. Four more are nipping at his heels.

"She's not like that," Jacob tells them with his mind.

What the hell? I can hear his thoughts? I'm plugged in?

But I'm not in his pack.

"Then what is she like?" the sandy wolf thinks.

"She didn't kill them, but Emily blamed her. Leah took the fall for Sam's children's sake. Just like me. You know what this did to my family," Jacob snarls.

I turn to look Jacob in the eye. I'm in his pack. My blood can't lie. I'm devoted to him now whether I want to be or not.

I back up, and take his right flank.

I speak up, my thoughts louder than life. "Jacob, I don't want to share the things I told you with your pack."

"They need to know I'm leaving. I'm going with you," Jacob whimpers, his thoughts completely pure.

This is it. He's not lying. He can't lie when we're in this form. He's willing to give it all up to be with me even if I don't love him the way he says he loves me.

"Wait, let's talk about this . . ." I share my thoughts. "They need you."

"No, they don't. And if you think I'm going to turn away from you, then you've misjudged me." Jacob rubs his nuzzle on my cheek.

The crowd gathering is murmuring and wondering what the heck is going on.

I'm not sure myself.

Jake suddenly takes off running, and not sure what to do, I follow after him.

The group behind us follows, but they're not being aggressive or angry with us, so I don't feel threatened.

Jacob leads behind a house, which I presume is his, and then phases at the door. I follow suit, and try to ignore how uncomfortable I feel in the nude.

We enter the house and he quickly grabs some clothes and throws me some as well.

I don't want to know what woman left these clothes here. Maybe they're Nessie's?

I don't ask, but slip them on quickly. As soon as we're both clothed, he grabs my hand and runs me out through the front door where there is a fair gathering of people and wolves.

"I want you all to hear the truth," he shouts, holding my hand so tightly I can hear my bones rubbing each other.

"Jacob, this isn't necessary," I whisper into his ear, leaning into his side.

"It is," he snaps at me. "This woman is innocent, just like I am. Everybody assumed I was responsible for killing the Cullens. The same person who framed Leah framed me as well," he calls to the crowd.

I gasp, and my hands fly over my mouth. No way. How could . . . ?

"Emily Uley did all of it; she's responsible. She killed Aro and his two closest guards. I've known for some time Emily was the one who murdered the Cullens but I didn't know why, so I kept trying to find the answers before I shared this with all of you. But Leah watched Emily kill the Volturi clan leaders. Emily is crazy. She wanted to torture Leah for loving Sam and me for loving this amazing woman you see before you," Jacob announces.

"Let's kill Emily!" someone in the herd demands.

Jacob turns to me for direction.

"We can't do that. She has children. She's a bitter, jealous woman, but now her brand of justice has been served. Sam is gone, and I don't need you to—" I am cut off.

"She's coming!" somebody squawks and the crowd parts like the Red Sea.

Only . . . she suddenly phases as she comes flying straight at Jacob and me.

And she's followed by three smaller wolves; her children.

What the hell? She's a half-breed!


	16. Chapter 16

**CHAPTER 16**

Hagging.

How did she do that?

She can't phase. She can't be one of us. She's a half breed.

Jacob phases in a flash, and I am right behind him.

All of Jacob's pack is at his beck and call.

_Don't hurt the children, just surround them_, Jacob tells them with his mind.

_What about Emily? _I ask.

_Emily . . . Kill her!_ Jacob barely waivers for a moment.

We separate Emily from her cubs, and Jacob and I chase her through the streets.

She whimpers, snaps, growls—mourning the separation from her children.

We corner her, near her home. She is trapped between a large craggy rock and the hills behind her. If she goes left, there is nothing but openness and we will overtake her.

If she goes right, she is up against more hills and mountains.

Either way, she cannot win.

Jacob tries to talk to her with his mind, but it doesn't work. She's not a part of our pack.

He snaps at her, and she returns the same sentiments.

_Emily, what happened to you? How did you phase?_ he asks.

The high stress mounts, and she suddenly begins to grow bigger.

Bigger than me.

Fortunately, Jacob is alpha, so she shouldn't be able to surpass him.

I hope.

Though, I don't know how she's growing bigger.

_Extreme adrenaline . . . Changed me, and my children. We were attacked by the Volturi, and that's when it happened. I phased, and so did my children, and we destroyed them_, Emily informs us, sharing her memories of how it happened.

_What about the Cullens? Why did you kill them?_ he asks.

_Because you wouldn't. And Sam wanted them dead. I'm already waging wars he set in motion. I have almost every Native American tribe in the United States willingly following me. We plan to take over_, she says.

And that is when I lose it.

I will not allow her to take over anything.

She's evil.

Emily is bigger, but I'm faster, and I have more experience.

She yelps when I lunge at her, but it's too late for her.

My jaws snap over her throat, and I know exactly where the jugular is.

In a blinding, crippling move, Jacob does his best to get me off her.

In his launch against me, my teeth that are gripped into her skin rip at her flesh, and her neck is ripped in half.

Blood gushes out of her, and her head is more off than on.

With a whimper, and a few gasping breaths, she twitches and then loses consciousness.

Jacob is wailing, furious with me.

_Why did you do that?_ he cries.

_Jacob, she can't rule. Look what she's done. She's the vilest person I've ever known. She is blood thirsty_, I explain.

_Who will rule then? The whole country is in chaos since the bombs fell. And what will happen if we don't take over where she left off? At least we know we aren't corrupt, and we won't be cruel tyrants,_ he says convincingly.

He's right.

We watch in horror at how my teeth massacred her body while she dies.

I hate this woman.

I love this woman.

She was my cousin.

She was my friend.

She is my enemy.

And now she is dead.

We phase back, and run inside her home to find any information we can of how she was communicating with the other tribes.

There is a list of phone numbers, addresses, and emails. The electricity barely came back a month ago, so who knows how reliable this information is.

We throw on some clothes and get to work—bridging and taking what was hers.

The response will probably be grim, if existent at all.

Before we can make a dent on her staggering amount of contacts, we are bombarded by the tribe who bring Emily's children inside of her home and want to know what to do with them.

Oh crap!

They saw their mother's dead corpse in the front yard.

What do I do now?


	17. Chapter 17

**CHAPTER 17**

Lagging.

I don't want to rule.

I don't want to do anything but fade into the background.

Yet, here I stand, faced with what I've done.

I have to explain to Emily's children they are officially orphans now.

They are aged five, seven, and ten years old.

The children are brought some clothes, and they dress quickly.

We are surrounded by audience.

I ask Jacob to dismiss the rest of the tribe so I can handle this delicately.

He agrees, and they refuse to go home, so he tells them to at least go bury Emily and wait outside.

They do as they're told.

I sit down on the floor, head hung low, with her children looming over me.

"What happened today . . . I'm sorry, but I had to do it," I say.

"Why?" the oldest, Aubrey asks.

"Do you know what you're mother has done, what she was planning?" I ask.

Jacob shakes his head no. He doesn't want them to know the details.

"What was she doing?" the youngest, Shane asks.

"Bad things. Very bad things," I say.

"You had to stop her?" he asks, tears springing forth.

"Yes, and I'm so sorry things got out of hand. But you'll be safe with us. We'll take care of you. I'll . . . be kind of like your adoptive mom," I say, without even having a moment to process what I'm saying.

Jake's eyes go wide in shock.

"But I don't like you! My mom hates you!" Aubrey says, shaking with anger.

She's about to phase.

We can't have that.

I extend my hand to her. "I know how she felt about me, and I can't say I had good feelings about her either, but I always cared about all of you children. I want nothing but good things for you."

They all three begin sobbing, and I'm at a loss of what to do.

"Maybe we can let them pick who they want to take care of them?" Jacob offers.

"Seth. We want him to take care of us," Aubrey decides.

The middle child, the shy, quiet one, speaks up, "No! He can't take care of us. If Leah doesn't like mom, then there are probably a lot of other people who don't like her either. So, they won't like us either. We stay with Jacob. He'll protect us. He's leader of the pack, like dad was."

I pet her hair softly, as a sign of acceptance.

"Why would he protect us?" Aubrey asks.

"Because he's the leader of dad's pack pack now, too," the middle child, Rhayna says.

"Yeah, I lead both packs now. The whole tribe is united," Jacob adds.

They continue to quietly cry, and then Jacob does what I don't think I can.

He hugs them each one by one and vows they are safe now and he'll treat them like they are his own children.

I cry.

Like a big stupid dog who's been disowned by his master, I cry.

A part of me is jealous.

I want my own kids, and for some stupid reason, I wish that these children really were mine and Jacobs.

I don't want him to love anybody's children but our.

Another part of me, feels walls around my heart crashing down in tumultuous, crashing waves.

These children are not to blame. They did nothing wrong, and they are Sam's children.

But they are Emily's too, so it's a bitter pill to swallow.

I rage inside, and claw at the negative feelings I have.

There is no way to sort through all of this without hurting somebody else, so I leave.

I run.

I leave Jacob with the children and I run.

I won't stop until my head is clear.

Or until I pass out from exhaustion.

He can't come after me. He's with them, and he's their guardian now.


	18. Chapter 18

**CHAPTER 18**

Shagging.

I don't know what he's doing.

But he's chasing me.

I ran for about ten miles, thinking myself free.

Jacob must have found somebody to watch them so he could come after me.

I can't look at him in this moment.

There is too much shame and guilt.

I can't make heads or tails of how I feel about him, about those kids, or anything else.

_Stop!_ he screams in my head.

I don't answer, and he's gaining ground.

Maybe that cliff isn't such a bad idea.

I can catapult myself straight off the side.

Don't do it! Leah, no! I love you. Just stop and listen to me . . . I have a plan, he begs.

My legs slow. I am apprehensive, but I think I want to see him one more time.

One more time before I either leave or end myself.

I find myself entering a meadow in the woods, and Jacob races up to my side.

He phases back, and so do I.

I want him out of my head so I can think clearly.

"Please . . . we can do this . . . If you can't be near her children, then I'll go ahead and give them to Seth, but I'll check in on them regularly. I have to do this, Leah. I need to make up for all of the problems I've caused. This is all my fault. If I had told you how I felt about you from the start and stayed away from Bella and the Cullens' then none of this would have happened," he says.

He walks towards me, and I let him. I stand my ground, and don't shy away from him.

His hand reaches out for me and I take it.

"Please . . . just be with me. I'll do anything you want," he says.

"Including run away with me? We can leave Seth in charge," I say.

I watch him closely for his answer, to gage how he truly feels about this.

His eyes shine and he is completely on board.

"Yes. We can do that," he says.

The guilt of leaving and not taking responsibility weighs heavy on him, but he loves me this much he'll leave.

I gasp, and cover my mouth with my free hand.

"You really do love me?" I whisper.

"With all my heart," he answers.

And I do the only thing I can. I kiss him.

My hands wrap around him tightly, and even though I'm naked, I'm not worried or afraid.

It feels right. All of it.

His hands in my hair, our lips softly exploring.

And I am not afraid.

For the first time in what seems like forever—I am happy, complete, and feel safe.

Jacob's warm hands are gentle, not brutal.

His sweet breath washes over my neck and shoulders as he presses his mouth to my skin.

I sigh, and pull him down to the ground with me.

He is slow and cautious, so I take control.

"Jacob . . . I love you. We're not leaving, and we can figure out how to take care of those children together. Now, show me how you feel about me," I breathe.

His mouth drops open, and his eyes go wide. He stiffens for a moment, then exhales heavily. "Finally!" he groans with a chuckle. "Finally you see it too!"

I laugh. His mouth is on me, his hands everywhere and I am happier than I've ever been as we make love in the middle of a beautiful meadow.

When we are finally able to let go of each other, we phase back and head home.

Jacob . . . ?

Yes, sweetheart?

What happens now?

Whatever you want.

Do we rule? Is that what we want?

We rule—not because we want it—but because we are called to do it.

He is right.

I didn't choose this life—it chose me.

I never asked to be a shape shifter. It happened.

I never wanted to love anybody but Sam. That was before I loved Jacob.

I never wanted anything more than to be loved. I have that now, and now I can give more.

It's time to be Leah, the woman who can tear down the whole planet if she chooses.

I choose to stop surviving and stop thriving. My example will hopefully shine and help bring together a crumbling country.

"You will," he says.

I smile.

"You will heal. And the country will follow you," he declares.

Phasing back, we step up to Emily's front door.

Hand in hand, we step through it, and start our new legacy—the United Order of Leah and Jacob Black.

**THE END**

-O—O—O-

**A/N:**

**I've always wondered if we had a massive bomb attack and all of the major cities were bombed, who would be left? I can't imagine that the reservations would be hit, and the Native American's would take back their land which they owned first.**

**I know this wasn't the happiest tale, but I enjoyed exploring it. Thank you all of you for taking a chance and reading it. I enjoyed your feedback.**

**Thanks so much!**

**Scarlettplay**


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